


These Endless Days Are Finally Ending in a Blaze

by NotLeanna



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Alex Manes, Post 1x13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 09:46:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19293220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotLeanna/pseuds/NotLeanna
Summary: Michael is finally ready to talk and Alex just wants to help.





	These Endless Days Are Finally Ending in a Blaze

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song "Walk through the Fire" from Buffy the Vampire Slayer's musical episode "Once More with Feeling".

“I’m ready for this conversation.”

“What conversation?” Alex asked, deliberately careful. 

Michael Guerin didn’t seem to be drunk, which was a welcomed change and something he hadn’t had the pleasure to witness very often in the last few months; still, he didn’t look good. Actually he looked like he was on the verge of breaking, but that wasn’t anything new, and by then Alex had learned he needed to pay attention to every word if wanted to navigate their confrontations coming out unscathed. He wasn’t worried about himself, at this point he was pretty sure he could handle anything, it was Michael who, after Caulfield and after  _ Max _ , seemed unable to do anything but hurting himself a little bit more every day.

He did come to him, though, so Alex was cautiously hopeful this time would be different. 

“The one I couldn’t have before because my brain couldn't’ stop screaming about Max, and the one I need to have right now because I have to focus on Max, but I can’t if I keep thinking about this.”

“Okay, I understand,” It was more painful than any other thing he had experienced in his life, and he had experienced some pretty good stuff, watching the man he loved so distraught, knowing that the wrong choice of words could set him off and make him unreachable for who knew how long. “Come and sit down with me, so we can talk. Have you eaten? Do you want me to fix you something?”

“I don’t want to eat, I want to have a conversation,”

“Alright, let’s talk. But first, come inside, Michael, we can’t talk on the doorway, can we?” 

He had swapped for the first name between Max’s death and the third time he had to run in the middle of the night and look for Michael, dreading what he was going to find. Somehow Guerin didn’t seemed enough to reach Michael and bring him back to him, at least for a while. 

He led Michael inside the cabin by the hand and he let him, thank god. Once inside, Alex’s heart clenched and threaten to give in for good, under the lights of his living room Michael looked even more broken.   

“What conversation, Michael?” He repeated. There were so many unfinished ones between them, Alex didn’t really have a clue what the other man was talking about.

“The conversation in which I tell you I’m in love with you, but it won’t ever come anything from it because like everything else in my life loving you has only been painful and I know it will always be like that. The one in which I tell you I don’t even know how I can love you since I’m almost sure I died the night I helped covering up three murders. 

“The one in which you tell me  _ fuck you, Guerin, you slept with my best friend and then kissed her some more, how dared you come here once your life shuttered?  _ And I tell you which best friend, Alex? You can’t disappear from someone’s life for ten years and then expect to still call yourself their best friend. You ask  _ are we talking about Max? About us? _ And of course we are, I’m always talking about him and about us, but it doesn’t mean I’m not right about Maria, too, because unlike me she might have had some phone calls, she might have had some of you, but you don’t know, Alex, you don’t have idea what it feels like to be left behind. She does. And I do. And I’ve been here watching it happen to her, so shut up and fuck you, too. 

“Or what about the one I ask you why? Why is it so easy to leave someone behind? Why is it so easy to leave  _ me _ behind, Alex? I know you can answer because you told me, remember? At the drive-in you said I give people reasons to walk away from me. Please, please, Alex, tell me those reasons, because I can’t take it anymore. Tell me what I’m doing wrong, Alex. I’ll change, I swear. I need to stop, Alex, because I won’t survive the next time someone goes away without me.”

Alex felt the horrified look that sat on his face ever since Michael had opened his mouth and that word-vomiting came out of it. Coming home from war he had been sure nothing would ever compare to the destruction and desolation he had seen there; he had never anticipated this. This was worse. War you could detach from, you could tell yourself you were just doing your job, that if it wasn’t you it would be someone else. You couldn’t detach from this. How could he when he was a key player in Michael’s hurting?  

“This time you say I disgust you, that I’m a useless piece of shit who’ll never amount to anything, so why wasting your time with me? And I say you’re right. I’m sick of myself, too; I’ve been digging graves my all life, how could I not? Run before it’s your turn, right? Run, please. Please. I’m already behind with this all resurrection project as it is. That I can’t do, I’m only able to dig and set fires. I’m covered in dirt and ashes and smoke. I’m a disgusting piece of hum- 

“Fuck. Fuck. I’m tired, Alex. I’m tired of so many things, but mostly I’m tired of not having words to describe myself. I’m tired of almost-words. Do you want to know what I am? Well, I can’t help you, because I don’t know.  _ Alien _ doesn’t mean a thing, you know? Never thought about it, have you? Am I what? Some _ thing _ alive? Maybe I’m not even that. Maybe I died in 1947 and this is hell, not my life. If you think about it, hell makes much more sense.

“And since we’re at it, I get all angry and righteous and ask you when you wanted to tell me you have a piece of my ship?”

At that Alex’s face registered something different from horror; surprise and regret and shame and defiance all whirled for a moment in his dark eyes. But it was just that, a moment, because Michael wasn’t done talking and ultimately his words left only pain behind them. 

“The other day Isobel got into your mind, she doesn’t trust anyone anymore, you know? Well, she told me all this stuff she had collected - in your mind - but don’t worry I was so high on acetone I only remember that ‘you really love me’ and you have part of my ship. She was so angry, man; I’d avoid her for a while, if I were you. Apparently what you did was unacceptable, which doesn’t even make sense because only weeks ago she’d have asked you to keep that piece for yourself or bury it in the desert, so I’d never leave Roswell, because if there’s someone on this god awful planet that can’t leave, it’s me, stupid, old Michael. Can you at least tell me I’m right? That you believe you’re entitled to walk away from me, but when it comes to me I can only watch you go? Can you give me that much?” 

Michael was looking at him expectantly and it took Alex a moment too long to understand he was waiting for his answer. Until then his only role had been that of silent recipient of Michael’s pain and it was fine with him. It was something he could do for him. Providing answers to the other man’s sometimes wrong, sometimes on-point, sometimes misled accusations was an entire different feat, though. 

“I can’t do that, Michael,” Alex cleared his voice and tried to keep it even and calm; he wasn’t mad at Michael for thinking everything he had just thrown at him, heartbroken sure, but mad never, and he had to understand it. “I can’t because it’s not true. I’d fly you to the other end of the universe myself to make you happy, or even just to give you some peace, believe me.”

“Don’t you see, Alex? There’s no peace for me. Not here, not now, not tomorrow on some unknown home planet. Not since you brought me to that fucking prison. Why it has always to be you? I can’t believe you did that to me, I can’t believe Max did… did what he did. And now Isobel talks about killing abusive scums to get strong enough to bring Max back. She’s doing research, for fuck sake! But if she does that, she’s gone, gone like everyone else. We won’t save Max and I’ll lose her, too. And I can’t tell her, I can’t explain it because I can’t… I can’t function. I can’t stop shit. I can’t be there for her. I can’t take Max place, like in life or in death. I can’t love you. I can’t help anyone. It’s like there’s nothing left in me and at the same time there’s too much of everything. I…”

“Michael…”

“No, please. There’s one more thing I have to say. But first, can you touch me? I think that’s what lovers do, right? I just need…” Michael hesitantly moved his arm towards Alex, not really a gesture. He seemed exhausted. It was enough for Alex, though, he was waiting for that kind of invitation all night. For the past few months. He took Michael’s shaking hand in his own and squeezed it, and when it was clear contact was what the other man needed he moved forward and held him in his arms. Michael’s forehead found Alex’s shoulder a fraction of second before Alex’s hand found his hair. Michael was crying, but it didn’t matter, he had been crying since he’d showed up on his doorstep. They both had.

_ Lovers. _ Alex couldn’t believe that even in that state Michael was able to make him shiver like that, with just a word.  

“For a moment I moved on from you, at the time it seemed the right thing to do. For myself. I can’t tell for sure why I did what because everything is so foggy since… you know? I guess I didn’t want to deal with all that. I wasn’t ready. And I gave up. On us. Then all went to shit and I… I couldn’t deal? At all? And I’m sorry Alex, but I can’t even bring myself to be scared of having screwed up this thing between us for good. I’m just scared of everything. But mostly I’m scared my life will always be like this, I will always be like this. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” 

It was so wrong. It wasn’t fair that Michael had to endure so much. As scared as he’d ever been, Alex gently stroked his hair until the sorrys died on the other man’s lips and there were only broken sobs and then only a tearful silence. 

“If this is a conversation,” Michael sniffed, shifting a little in Alex’s embrace. Now, looking down Alex could see half his face. It was a half too much. “I guess this is your turn to say something.”

“I don’t think you’re ready for this part of the conversation,” he had never been as brave as Michael when it came to bear his soul and speak his heart. He was probably the one who wasn’t ready, but he had decided in a nightmare of a prison on a nightmare of a day he wouldn’t hide anymore, that he’d live as exposed as Michael had managed to do despite his many dangerous secrets right from the beginning of their  _ thing _ . He wasn’t about to back down now. “I don’t think you’ll believe me and accept what I want to tell you.”

“Try me,” 

Oh, his brave little alien.

“I love you, Michael. I’m not going anywhere. You’re my family, you’re stuck with me.”

“Max said something similar. Not too long ago.” 

“I’m stickier, I promise.” It wasn’t neither the time nor the place to promise anything else, like that his brother would be back, not when the burden of a very possible failure rested on Michael’s - and Isobel’s, obviously - tired shoulders. Alex felt Michael clung even tighter to him. “Now that this is settled, we can sort everything else. But first, let me help you. You need help, Michael, you understand it, yes?”

After what felt like hours, Michael nodded, his nose brushing against Alex’s neck. 

“See? It’s already sorting itself out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
